


Never Love an Anchor

by seasaltmemories



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Character study through porn, F/M, Finger Sucking, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Realizing romantic feelings mid-sex, Self-Esteem Issues, Sex as Grief Processing, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:02:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23588848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasaltmemories/pseuds/seasaltmemories
Summary: There was a familiar restless energy to Sylvain, the same tense composure she saw whenever he was flirting with another girl who he’d throw away a week later. And for all the wounds she hadn’t been able to heal in time, for all those she had been forced to leave behind, a slow creeping voice in the back of her head told Mercedes that she might be able to at least fix this problem.
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Mercedes von Martritz
Comments: 11
Kudos: 59
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	Never Love an Anchor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lemonsharks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsharks/gifts).



> Title is inspired by a The Crane Wives song of the same name, this takes place post their A support

_“When next we meet, I will kill you without hesitation.”_

Those words rattled around Mercedes’ head like a stubborn coin that refused to leave its pursue no matter how hard she shook it. Usually she wasn’t quite this good at turning over her thoughts for so long. For schooling, it was a curse, but for the rest of her life it was a blessing. She had seen the way those who had truly suffered grew bitter and resentful towards the Goddess, unable to let go of their pain. And well, maybe her life hadn’t have been all sunshine and roses, but Mercedes had never wanted to be like that. Life was easier when she relaxed and let Her divine hand guide her through life.

But after eighteen long years of hanging onto memories of her sweet baby brother, it was difficult to not grasp the few scraps this Death Knight gave her like a vice. She didn’t know what good carrying them would do, but if there was one thing she couldn’t hand over to the Goddess so easily, it was Emile. Letting go of his hand to run away with Mother had been the worst choice of her life. Even if all that these remnants of him brought was guilt and anguish, she feared more what she might lose if she let go of them too.

_What would it feel like if you didn’t resist and instead let his scythe slice right through you? You’ve seen doctors cut through flesh to remove deadly diseases. Maybe if you didn’t struggle, he’d have pity and only carve out your regrets._

Mercedes’ eyes flew open. She didn’t know what inside her broached such a morbid suggestion, but she knew she didn’t have the courage to turn back and face it. She only realized where she was turning to instead when she the cold air began to nip the back of her neck. Her body was better at taking care of others than herself, so if she couldn’t sleep it must have decided without her that she might as well help the others rest more easily and get some chores done.

She floated like that for a while, letting everything from the cool stone of the floor to the silver moonlight take her attention away from the day's events. When Mercedes found herself in the kitchens, everything clicked. A few days ago, she had bought extra baking supplies from an Alliance merchant. It had cost more than the allowance the Professor suggested, but in the heat of the moment she had been so excited to gift Annette some of the sweets she had been craving. Maybe she hadn’t intended to sneak away and bake it in the middle of the night, but a breakfast surprise should be as good as any kind.

As she gathered her ingredients Mercedes hummed a wordless tune. There was a degree of practicality to it--singing helped her keep time and keep from getting too focused on one task--but it also had the nice side effect of calming her nerves. It was easier to control her breathing when there was a pleasant melody to entertain herself with. Her hands shook less when she had eggs to crack open with a precise touch. Loneliness was easier to swallow down when you knew people’s love wasn’t that far out of reach.

“So there’s our nightingale.” Mercedes almost dropped the mixing bowl from her arms out of surprise. It was only once she managed to field it onto the table that she was able to turn and face her eavesdropper.

“A little birdie like you should be careful about staying out this late. Never know what kind of animals would try to snatch you up.” Sylvain leaned against the doorway, grinning like a cat that had just spied his favorite meal. Since they had reunited, she had almost let those honey-brown eyes get to her. With his new height and bulk it had been easy to wonder if his flirtations had gained any weight as well. Still over time their old Monastery banter had returned to her.

“Hello Sylvain,” Mercedes smiled as she let all his innuendo fly past her without a second thought. “If it is so dangerous to be up, then what is your excuse?”

“I’m trying to climb back into any bed I can,” Slowly he made his way to the wine cellar. “Just need a drink to help me rest easier.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you.” On instinct she placed her body in-between him and the door. “Instead why don’t you try sticking to more traditional sleeping aids?”

Sylvain paused, a strange expression flitted across his face. She tried to decipher it, but it was gone in an instant and replaced with a cool regard.

“I don’t remember when I asked for your permission.” His voice was light and teasing, but that gaze of his cut through her with the same precision he’d take down a foe.

“I’m a medic, and I’ve been your medic several times.” While battlefield white magic was different from the work Manuela did, Mercedes wasn’t about to refresh him on the details. “Drinking yourself into a slumber is imprecise at best and can put your life in danger at worst.”

Sylvain didn’t say anything at first, just kept studying her like she was some battle map he was trying to commit to memory. It occurred to her then that she hadn’t put on a robe and her nightgown left very little to the imagination. Immediately she crossed her arms in an effort to regain a shred of decency, but then Mercedes began to wonder if drawing attention to her breasts when the night was so cold, when he was around riling her up was a good idea, or maybe--

“When did you get this?” While she had been caught up in her fretting, he had closed the distance between the two of them to play with Rafail Gem. It was another matter she had forgotten to attend to after today’s trying events. Or maybe her subconscious had decided to let it rest there as a physical reminder of the guilt she bore.

_There must be a part of him that still loves you if he is still protecting you like this? What remnants does Emile still hold of you? “When next we meet, I will kill you without hesitation.”_

“I’ll tell you if you come and help me bake this cake. Once its in the oven, I’ll brew some tea that should make you sleep like a baby.” It was bribery at its most blatant, but for whatever reason, Sylvain let the gem fall back against her chest and followed Mercedes to the cooking table.

“So why were you up?” It was about as subtle as an axe to the face, but if Sylvain thought anything about her pushing the conversation back onto him, he didn’t say anything.

“What would you say if I was awakened by a siren’s song and would have been driven mad if I couldn’t find its source?”

“I thought I was a bird not a fish.” She giggled.

“You’re getting sirens and mermaids mixed up. Mermaids are your fish ladies. Will eat your heart out, but at least they look hot. Sirens disguise themselves with their song and don’t even give you the decency of being eaten by a pretty face.”

“So I really must not be so beautiful anymore.” Mercedes gave an exaggerated sigh. “You know if you didn’t like my haircut you could have just said so.”

“No Mercedes, you look divine as always.” It was a well worn-out compliment, but despite herself, she couldn’t stop the heat from rushing to her core. She was so busy trying to squash it back down, she almost missed his next words.

“It would have been Miklan’s birthday tomorrow.” There was no flowery language to blunt the harsh reality of his confession, just a quiet whisper of words that could have been lost in the wind. The news was so dizzying, her body kinda kept functioning without her, still compulsively stirring the batter and smiling like an idiot. By the time she actually began to process things, Sylvain was rambling on with that same desperation as when he had disclosed what growing up with a Crest had been like.

“I don’t know why I remembered it tonight. I didn’t care at all when it came around the first time his blood was on my hands. But you know my father had forbid people from mentioning it back then. It always broke my mother’s heart to hear about him. That used to piss me off because I still remembered a year where he almost trampled me with the horse he had been gifted, but no, now that he was gone he was simply a tortured soul. But then again--”

“Sylvain.” She didn’t mean to speak quite so harshly, but she couldn’t hide the frustration in her voice. When he turned back to her with those beautiful, sad eyes, her heart nearly shattered in two. There was a familiar restless energy to them, the same tense composure she saw whenever he was flirting with another girl who he’d throw away a week later. And for all the wounds she hadn’t been able to heal in time, for all those she had been forced to leave behind, a slow creeping voice in the back of her head told her that she might be able to at least fix this problem.

In one elegant motion, Mercedes swirled her hand in the cake batter and extended her frost-covered fingertips towards his mouth.

“Taste it.”

“What!?” If it had been under any other occasion, then she might have savored getting to see him flustered for once in his life.

“I said you would get a treat for helping me.” It was strange to be the one throwing around innuendos now, but the longer she held her hand out, the more it made sense. There was no need to find a new heart to break when hers was already so worn and fragile.

“Taste it, _please._ ” She didn’t mean for her voice to crack on that last word, but it seemed to be the last bit of goading needed for Sylvain to finally give in.

He gripped her wrist with both hands while his tongue darted out in quick bursts to clean each digit. While at first each flick was nothing more than a blur of pink, controlled, focused, and utterly devoid of any sensuality, after swiping the last remains of icing, he’d linger for just a half second--sending shivers down her spine. When he found a dollop of frosting had been smeared just above her knuckle and leveraged her hand further in his mouth so that he reach it, Mercedes couldn’t keep from gasping in pleasure.

Sometimes a little voice would try and chime in that in was a poor use of expensive ingredients to waste them on foreplay or it was evil of her to take advantage of his grief. But pleasure had a way of warming the back of her throat, making her hum so loud she drowned out all those inner demons. The Goddess had never disapproved of intimacy. There couldn’t be any harm in carving out her own island of happiness when she otherwise might cry herself a sea of grief.

When Sylvain was finished with his task, he stayed there, head lowered against her hand like a loyal dog. But the eyes that stared up at her were those of a wolf, sharp and hungry. There was a reason you weren’t supposed to feed wild animals, after whetting their appetites, they’d always come back around for more. Yet it seemed that he was still respecting the power dynamics she had established, waiting for her next order.

So she did what any person with a big broad man leering at her like that would do--she pushed away her cooking and lead him to her room.

She must have grown complacent, thinking she’d be able to take her time, because she turned back to the door to make sure it was locked. However before she could move from her spot, a warm breath of air tickled the curve of her neck, freezing her in place.

“You never did explain who gave you this.” His left arm was pressed against the door-frame, caging her, while his right played with the Rafail Gem again.

“What if I told you it was a thank you from your last bedmate for warming it after you left?” She didn’t know what creature controlled her tongue in that moment. Maybe it was the innocent part of her that would prefer returning to their usual teasing relationship rather than risk this confusing mess. Maybe the not so innocent part of herself wanted to goad him into a fit of jealousy, to be fucked against the door with about as much gentleness as she deserved. Deeper reflection might have found the culprit, but it occurred to her then that Sylvain had neither done nor said a thing all this time she was caught up in pitying herself.

Slowly, she looked over her shoulder. When she met those honey-brown eyes again, she didn’t see the skirt-chaser she was used to from her past, but the tired warrior she grown more and more familiar with these last few months.

“I’m sorry,” When she reached up to cup his cheek, he flinched, but before she could pull away, he covered her hand with his and brought it closer once more. “Truly I am.” She didn’t quite know what she was apologizing for, but the same feeling she got when she watched a dying man beg for healing she couldn’t give was clawing at her chest again.

With the same strange passivity of his tonight, he let her lead him to her bed. There, she arranged his limbs so that he was lying comfortably, like she used to when playing with her dolls as a young girl. One by one, she began to undo the buttons of his shirt.

“You carry so much more pain than most realize.” She pressed butterfly kisses against his chest, traveling down lower and lower. “I can be so cruel sometimes, but you’re an invaluable friend.” She moved to untie the laces of his breeches, but before she could get them undone, Sylvain shot to life and grabbed her wrists. In one swift motion, he pinned her arms above her head and rolled onto her.

“Don’t you patronize me too. Not you.” He rocked his hips against hers, and it took all her will-power not to chase the sensation. “Don’t call me your _friend_ while trying to suck my cock. I thought I was more to you than that.”

There was something disorienting being in a position like this. Good old Mercedes who did everything for everyone unable to move a muscle. She should be screaming, trying to break free at whatever cost, but instead a sick thrill curled itself in the pit of her stomach.

“Why don’t you prove it then?” That wicked tongue of hers spoke without warning.

Sylvain stared at her, stunned, and she felt the urge to apologize again. But that little voice inside herself told her to wait wait wait, see what this might get her.

_If you can’t ever let go of things yourself, maybe it might be good to let someone else take it from you._

The kisses they shared were not the type she wanted anyone else to know about. When she and Annette had gossiped about blushing boys and giggling girls, she had always adopted that role of wise and unflappable Mercie. It was a preferable position to refashion her wasted years into a comfortable experience. And really there was something nice in showing someone the ropes, leading them gently to a shared sense of bliss.

But this...this arrangement opened her up to all new sorts of delights. There was a satisfaction in the feel of Sylvain’s hips pressing her against the mattress with no extra force than his natural weight, his tongue in her mouth, exploring every crevice of it, as if he was searching for something. There was a pleasure in being so thoroughly possessed, so when his right hand descended to fondle her breast, and she couldn’t help but arch into his touch.

“You sure act arrogant for someone so desperate,” His voice had transformed into a low growl she could feel travel from his chest to hers. “Were you just putting on airs earlier and trying to hide how much of a slut you really are?”

Heat transformed from arousal and into anger. “Don’t call me that.” Mercedes broke from Sylvain’s grip, hating the way her voice cracked. It made her sound like a child, and this was the last situation in which she wanted to return to those days.

But thankfully, Sylvain didn’t call her stupid or naive. Instead his left hand reached forward to brush the hair from her face.

“I apologize. I forgot you like it most when I’m honest.” He murmured. “If I’m telling the truth, then I can’t imagine a more radiant woman than you, Mercedes.”

The hand still fondling her breast pinched her nipple, and Mercedes was embarrassed by how loud a noise she made. Still if anything, Sylvain seemed almost giddy.

“Never knew my flattery was that good.” His laughter made her ears buzz. “You liked that didn’t you?”

Mercedes didn’t trust herself to use words, instead just nodding before shoving her face into his shoulder.

Sylvain chuckled again, making what few pieces of fabric that separated them seem all the flimsier. “Does he know your little secret? Does he make you feel as good as I do?”

“Stop playing games,” The Mercedes that hadn’t been a blushing virgin for over a decade grew back her spine. “Tell me I’m good, that’s all I want.”

Sylvain sighed as he lean down to press his forehead against hers. “I can’t imagine anything easier. You might be more holy than the goddess, herself.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Of course that was when he decided to sneak a hand up her night-gown. The sudden chill might have been an adequate excuse for her shivering, but even as Mercedes adjusted, she could not stop the tremors.

“You’re the best of all of us, kind, patient. None of us deserve you, least of all me.” His clever hands danced up her inner thigh, teasing and refusing to touch her exactly where she wanted.

“So beautiful too. You’re like a portrait come to life. I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.” He captured her mouth just as slide a finger into her, and it was all so overwhelming, Mercedes wondered if she might just keel over right then and there. Still something about the intensity with which Sylvain kissed, her seemed to demand she stay there with him. So she returned his affections the best she could, using her tongue, nails, and teeth.

Eventually though she must have gotten too enthusiastic because after he rubbing her in just the right spot, Sylvain pulled away from her with a hiss as he cradled his ear.

“Oh my!” Mercedes leaned forward to try and innocently examine the nick, but Sylvain pushed her back down, spreading apart her legs.

“Don’t worry about it. You can sink your teeth wherever want--already’ve carved my heart from chest. I don’t mind it as long as you promise you’ll be there to kiss it better.” He slipped another finger inside her and her embarrassment melted back into that glorious high that was building up inside her. So she tried to do as he asked, and peppered his injured ear with the softest of kisses as she begged and pleaded for him to bring her to release.

“Mercie I don’t think I could ever love another woman,” His breath was ragged, just the sound of it pushing her closer. “Marry me.”

Whiteness blinded her vision, leaving her all floaty and in a world where she couldn’t really understand his words. It was such a nice place, it probably was what let her entertain the idea for a moment, linger on how much she just enjoyed his presence and how devastated she’d be if she lost him.

And then she came back down to earth, where Sylvain was looming over her, waiting with his neediness on full display.

As she tried to catch her breath, her mind swirled with a thousand thoughts, but the one thing that consumed her the most was the knowledge that she should have never let them make such a mistake.

After that, well it became impossible to keep from crying.

“I’m sorry,” Mercedes did her best to wipe her tears away, but they just wouldn’t stop falling. “It’s not your fault, I--”

“I told you not to patronize me!” His words felt laced with venom. “I’m not used to girls crying before we’ve even rolled out of bed but then I guess it is no wonder you got tired of me this quickly.”

“That’s not true!” She tried to tilt his chin so that he would look at her, but he pushed away her touch with a snarl. “Please listen to me Sylvain, I should have never taken advantage of you when you were so obviously grieving. I’m the lowest.”

Pure rage burned in his gaze, no longer so sweet and syrupy. “Was I just a pity fuck?! Just another little child to shut up? Is that why you won’t tell me who gave you that necklace? Don’t want to break a stupid kid’s heart when you got another man who actually--”

“For goddess’ sake, I got this from my brother after he said he wanted to kill me!”

Immediately it was like a spark of thunder magic had struck the room. Everything grew still as they could only stare at each other as her outburst finally set it.

“Fuck,” It was Sylvain who finally broke the silence. He buried his face in his hands. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” Mercedes wondered if she’d ever be able to say those words enough for them to mean anything. “I’m sorry, please forgive me. I’m not proud of what I did, I just couldn’t bear to think of him tonight.”

“Fuck!” Sylvain slammed his fist against the mattress. “I’m such a fucking dumbass, my brain might as well be in my dick.”

“Don’t say things like that!” Mercedes brought his hands to her chest. “I was the one who seduced you. I led you on. I wanted you domineering and cruel. I brought this upon myself!”

Sylvain gave a laugh at that, but this one had been drained of any humor. “I was charmed by you the minute I heard your voice tonight. There’s just something so soothing about being around you. With Miklan haunting me, it was the only thing that made me feel like myself again.” He dropped his hands to his side as his frame began to tremble. “But then that isn’t a good thing in the long run, because seeing that gem made me a spoiled child. I didn’t want to have to share you with anyone else in the world. I didn’t want to risk losing your comfort.”

There was a fervor to his words that a few minutes ago might have lit a fire in her as well. But now, his shaking shoulders only signaled just how evil she truly was.

“I’m sorry,” Goddess, when would she stop babbling. “I don’t know if I can give you any comfort. I don’t know if I have anything left to give.”

She dashed out the room, worried that staying with him any longer might bring on a new wave of tears. However as the door slammed shut behind her, it was only then she remembered that it was her own room.

_Oh you stupid girl_

Mercedes collapsed against the heavy oak behind her when her knees gave way.

She didn’t know how long she stayed there--crying, curled against the door. It seemed now that she had opened the flood gates, her sadness wanted to make good on all the years she had tried to persevere and stay strong. But even eighteen years of self-loathing, of having to live with the weight of her inadequacy, had it waning points. Like a tide that had temporarily receded, she knew it would come back with a vengeance. But she had to pull herself together enough to do the awkward work of reclaiming her own room. She hated to be the one to make a mess, but at least she had gotten good at cleaning them up.

Tentatively, she returned to find, Sylvain still sprawled across her bed with that faraway look in his eyes. Just seeing him again made her want to find some hole to crawl and die in, but forced herself to be mature and sat down to join him.

"Did you mean it?" Mercedes asked in a quiet voice. "Do you really want to marry me?"

There was a huff of air, and then a much longer and more tired sigh. "Since I thought there might be another man in your life, I figured it was time to lay all my cards out on the table. I figured you had no reason to believe a love confession alone, so I thought a ring would convince you of my genuine feelings."

“Sylvain, I mean it with full sincerity when I say that I want the best for you,” Mercedes took a deep breath. “But I don’t want you to be in love with me.”

Sylvain shifted back and forth, “I know you probably see me as nothing more than a shallow pervert, but that doesn’t change the intensity of my feelings for you.” She looked down to find him drawing unrecognizable patterns into the mattress. “Even if you don’t return them, you’ll always be divine to me.”

“It’s not that I don’t feel anything for you, either,” Mercedes smoothed her skirts, infected by his nervous energy. “If anything, I was frightened because I do feel something.” She danced away from the exact four letter word. Such affection felt too much for her clumsy hands to hold.

“I can’t blame you, I don’t particularly like myself either,” He looked up at her now, that neediness still overwhelming. “I like to think I’m a better man when I’m with you though. If I can’t give you my heart, then at least take my admiration.”

Mercedes could feel her shoulders begin to quiver. “I don’t think you understand though. I’m not the angel you think I am.” She traced the Rafail Gem. “I’m good at acting the part of the caring older sister, but well my brother isn’t wrong to want me dead.”

Sylvain’s eyes narrowed. “Not wrong doesn’t mean right. You bring so much joy to everyone, I can’t imagine a world where your absence would bring anything but sadness to us all.”

“I know I’m good at giving!” She didn’t mean to raise her voice, but the few strands of her soul were starting to unravel again. “I give my blood and tears because there isn’t much else I have to offer. I try to be kind and good but every well dries up eventually.” Mercedes forced herself to look him in the eye. “When I run dry will you still love me? If I can’t make you a better man, what use am I as a wife?”

Sylvain’s hands came to a standstill against the mattress. Then slowly he curled his fingers into the sheets. “You know I never used to believe him. I always wanted to prove him wrong, but maybe Miklan was right about some things.” He stared at her with that tragic gaze. “Here I am treating you the way my father treated me.”

Mercedes blinked. “What do you mean?”

Sylvain’s fingers grazed hers, but they didn’t quite hold her. What might be mistaken for a grip was too loose and skittish to quite count.

“When was that last time someone took care of you? You’ve had to put up with the same bullshit as everyone else, but you didn’t even have your own Mercie to help you along the way.”

There was a part of her that wanted to push him away. It wanted to convince herself that this wasn’t sincere concern, but just the result of her manipulative guilt-tripping.

But slowly his hands danced up the side of her arms, persuading her into an hug. Once she began to trace the length of his spine, it became impossible to keep from just melting into him.

“His name is Emile.” Mercedes whispered against his shoulder. “That is all I can give for now, but please don’t let me go.”

As shaky as an embrace it was, Sylvain held her through the entire night.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! I took some liberties with the exact prompt but I really latched onto the idea of them both having a brother that wanted them dead and as you put it the fact that Mercedes is "a disaster who sublimates all of her emotions and trauma into the service of others," she deserves a good cry, so this was fun to write!


End file.
